A PLEASANT SURPRISE
As Phil and Ted, laden with packages and bags, came in sight of the
station on the following morning, they gasped in amazement.
Every member of Parker School seemed to be there, and when the boys and
girls beheld their two popular schoolmates, they rushed for them in a
body, surrounding and cheering them, while the members of the baseball
team seized the luggage from their hands, escorting them in triumph to
the station.
“Look out for the bears! Hope your crops are bumpers! Show ’em what a
tenderfoot can do!” were among the comments and bits of advice with
which Phil and Ted were deluged as their friends crowded about and
grasped their hands.
“Here, come back with those bags! No tricks with them,” called Ted,
anxiously, as he noticed that he and his brother were being separated
from their belongings by those who were eager to bid them godspeed.
So dense was the throng about the boys, however, that the behest could
not be obeyed, and they seemed in imminent danger either of being forced
to start without their luggage or of being compelled to miss the train.
But as the locomotive whistled for the station, the crowd fell back,
cheering and shouting their good-byes, while those with the bags and
other things closed in, rushing into the train with them.
As the bell clanged its signal for departure, there was a hurried
leave-taking by members of the team, then the ball players scrambled
from the car, and as Phil and Ted appeared on the rear platform, waving
their hats, the boys and girls about the station gave three lusty cheers
and then burst into singing “For he’s a jolly good fellow.”
Until they could no longer see or hear their former schoolmates, the
boys stood on the platform. When at last they turned and entered the
car, they took their seats in silence, each too deeply moved to trust
himself to speak.
“It’s a good thing Momsy and the girls said good-bye to us at home,”
observed Phil, after a few minutes. “They couldn’t have put a word in
edgewise.”
“I suppose so; still, I’d like to have seen Momsy again,” returned Ted,
his voice quavering.
In reply, Phil struck his brother a resounding clap on the back.
“Buck up, son, buck up!” he exclaimed, his own voice none too steady.
“Just remember that we are going to make a home for her where she can
grow strong and happy, and forget about the leave-taking.”
For a moment it seemed, to those seated near by, uncertain whether or
not the boy could master his emotion. But, squaring his shoulders, he
asserted his will power, and in the most matter of fact tone he could
muster said:
“I wonder whether it would be better to seed down to durum wheat this
season or put everything we clear into alfalfa?”
The other passengers in the car had noted the demonstration at the
Weston station, and from various remarks, capped by Phil’s admonition,
had guessed correctly that the two boys were leaving home to begin their
battle with the world. Many an eye among them grew moist as their minds
harked back to the days when they too had stepped from the protection of
home into the struggle of real life, and keen therefore was their
interest in Ted’s ability to meet the crisis.
Accordingly, as they heard his statement in regard to the wheat, there
was a murmur of hearty approval which caused the younger boy to gaze
about him in surprise, but, though his brother had heard it also, he
wished to keep Ted to the mark and asked:
“What in the world is ‘durum’ wheat?”
“There, I knew you didn’t read that last pamphlet we received from the
Department of Agriculture,” gloated his brother. “If you had, you would
not have been obliged to ask. Durum wheat is a particularly hardy and
quick-growing kind which may be planted in the spring and reaped in the
summer.”
“Well, it will be long past spring by the time we get our land cleared
and in condition to plant,” smiled Phil, “so I guess we’ll sow to
alfalfa.”
“But I want to put in a little durum, anyway,” declared Ted, “just to
see what it will do, you know.”
“All right, son, you shall, but just now you’d better be picking up some
of these bags and parcels or we shall be hauled out onto a side track
before we can leave the car.”
Many were the offers from other passengers to assist the boys in
carrying their luggage, but they declined them courteously and, in due
course, left the train.
“Why, there are Momsy and the girls!” cried Ted, in delight, as they
walked up the long platform of the terminal station, in Boston. “How on
earth did they get here?”
Neither of the two, however, stopped to discuss the matter, each making
all possible haste to join them.
“Dr. Blair drove us in his automobile,” declared Margie, as her brother
came up. “I think he is just perfectly grand. He’s going to—”
“Careful, daughter! Dr. Blair wishes it to be a surprise, you know,”
admonished Mrs. Porter.
Flushing, Margie seized some of her younger brother’s parcels, while he
led her on ahead that he might extract from her the information which he
could see she was too excited to keep secret for long.
Again Mrs. Porter frustrated Ted’s plan.
“Dr. Blair wishes us to wait for him on a bench in the old station,” she
announced.
“This seems to be a ‘Blair-conducted’ excursion,” smiled Phil, as the
luggage was set down and Mrs. Porter and the girls took seats. “Is he
going to drive you in his car ahead of our train all the way to Chelan
County?”
“I wish that he were,” returned his mother, earnestly.
“Well, I’m mighty glad he brought you this far,” asserted the boy,
emphatically.
“You must have broken some speed limits, though, to get here ahead of
us,” opined Ted.
“We didn’t,” declared Margie. “We were on our way long before the train
left Weston.”
“Then his bringing you in was all planned out?”
“Of course, silly,” exclaimed Sallie. “You don’t suppose Momsy would
have been content to keep away from the station unless she knew she
would see you again, do you?”
“Well, you needn’t act so superior,” retorted the boy. “If you had the
safety of seven hundred dollars and all the responsibility of selecting
a suitable homestead on your mind, you might not think of everything.”
“Poor little mind! Come over to the soda fountain and I’ll buy an
egg-chocolate to brace it up.”
“You’re on! Come along, Momsy, Marg, Phil. Sallie’s going to spend sixty
cents of her own money,” grinned Ted.
“Egg-chocolates are fifteen cents apiece, and five times fifteen are
seventy-five, instead of sixty, Teddy boy,” asserted Margie. “I don’t
wonder your old machine wouldn’t fly if you can’t make your calculations
any better than that.”
“Now don’t get too puffed up because you can multiply fifteen by five. I
said sixty cents because Sallie won’t buy herself a drink, wouldn’t if
she never had any,” chuckled Ted, his sister’s anger at this flaunting
of her “closeness” repaying him for her gibe of the moment before.
“Wait till we get our tickets and then I’ll treat,” announced Phil,
taking his brother’s arm and heading him toward the long row of ticket
windows.
In dismay, Mrs. Porter looked from the boys to her daughters.
“There’s—there’s no hurry about the tickets, is there?” she stammered.
“How long before the train goes, Phil?”
“Two hours, Momsy.”
“Then there is plenty of time, I am sure.”
“But we might as well get them now and then we shall not be obliged to
bother about them later. Besides, it is so early that we ought to be
able to get the best berths. Come on, Ted.”
Again Mrs. Porter and her daughters exchanged swift and significant
glances.
“Oh, bother the tickets! Come, have the egg-chocolates first,” exclaimed
Sallie. “I’m just going to fool you, Ted, so you’d better come and watch
me buy a soda for myself.”
“First and last time,” chuckled the boy. “Come on, Phil, we can’t afford
to miss seeing a modern miracle.”
Their mother, who was fervently hoping that Dr. Blair would arrive ere
her family should return from the soda-water fountain, pleaded the
necessity of guarding the luggage as an excuse for not accompanying
them. The boys, however, would not listen to her refusal, and, after a
hesitation which ended only when she beheld the doctor entering the
waiting-room, she consented.
“Haven’t bought your tickets yet, I hope,” said a cheery voice behind
the young people as they stood in front of the soda-water counter.
“They haven’t. Dr. Blair, but Sallie and I have been obliged to stand
all sorts of abuse to keep them from doing so,” laughed Margie.
“Never mind, I’ll try to atone for it. You see, I didn’t want you to
tell my plan until I knew it could be accomplished. Phil, how would you
and Ted like to take the trip up the Great Lakes from Buffalo to Duluth
on an ore boat?”
“Great! Fine! If we only could!” exclaimed the boys; while Ted added:
“And boat rates are cheaper than rail.”
“Who’s stingy now?” cried Sallie, amid the laughter her brother’s words
had evoked.
“I was thinking the saving would mean about twenty more acres for us,”
retorted Ted, flushing.
“That’s right, son. You must figure to save every possible cent,” smiled
the physician. “However, thanks to my friend Bronson, who has an
interest in one of the ore fleets, you are both to be his guests for the
trip, so that you will save enough for a good many acres. Here’s the
letter to Captain Perkins, of the Admiral, which will serve as tickets.”
“And it won’t cost us a cent?” asked Ted.
“Not a penny.”
“Hooray for you and Mr. Bronson!” cried the lad, dancing about in sheer
joy, while the others expressed their gratitude less boisterously.
“I’ll go with you while you buy your tickets, if you don’t mind,”
observed the physician, and as the three reached one of the windows, Dr.
Blair stopped, saying: “I must tell you there is a strike on against the
ore boats. Don’t mention it to your mother, it might worry her. Mr.
Bronson, however, said there was really no danger; you must just be
careful going aboard and leaving the boat. You might be mistaken for
strike-breakers, you know. Of course, if you think the risk is too
great—”
“It will only add to the fun,” interrupted Ted, and his brother agreed
with him.